Honesty
by Lioness's Heart
Summary: Oneshot. A late night stop at the Dove and a talk with Rosto gives Beka a revelation - the difference between Rat and Dog really is small, and sometimes, love comes quietly, as it did with Rosto.


**Disclaimer: If it was mine, I would not be writing this. Tortall belongs to Tamora Pierce. I just play with it when I can.**

**A/N: Another oneshot! Yay. Best part is, I didn't even come remotely close to killing off anyone (Rosto)! And, because of that, this is far from my usual fics, being very light on the angst comparatively, and it's even a little fluffy, which is unusual for me. Anyway don't forget to review!

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**Stars twinkled in the sky above as Beka Cooper walked through the darkened streets of the Lower City. Lanterns and torches flickered in the dark street, casting shadows on the stones of the streets. The glow from the flickering light almost blocked the crystalline sparkle from sight.

Beka paused outside of her lodging house, rubbing her shoulder. A bruise was forming under her uniform where she had been struck earlier that evening by a Rat. As she stretched her shoulder, her eyes fell upon the Dove.

A light flickered in the lower level despite the late hour and the fact that Rosto usually dismissed Court of the Rogue around the time she was finished walking her watch. The upper floor was darkened, which was quite unusual, even after Kora had given up her rooms there in favor of the house she and Ersken had settled down in. Usually Rosto, at least, was sitting up working on something or taking a few moments to himself before he headed to bed. By that time, the light in the lower level had usually been extinguished.

She tilted her head slightly as she saw movement in the Dove. It was casual movement, not meant to be read into. The barkeep Rosto had hired, more than likely. She did wonder why he was still there, though. Rosto had mentioned once that he usually let the cove go home a little before the Rogue dispersed. The fact that he was still there was a little strange.

After another moment, Beka moved away from the door to her boarding house, taking a step toward the Dove. She frowned slightly, glancing between the boarding house and the inn. In the end, her curiosity got the better of her. She moved to the door of the Dove and found that it was unlocked. Not exactly what she had expected, that was for sure.

The bell above the door chimed when she pushed it open. Beka froze. The sound of a faint chuckle reached her ears a moment later.

"You know, it probably isn't the best idea to try to sneak in the front door of the Rogue's inn," a distinctive deep voice told her. The cadence of speech, and the very faint accent told her that it was Rosto himself sitting down there. It sometimes surprised her that his voice carried the accent it did when he had lived in Corus and spoken their language for so long.

"I wasn't sneaking," she told him.

"You were," Rosto contradicted her, shaking his head ever so slightly. It caused his pale blond horsetail to swish softly back and forth behind him.

"Rosto, I was not," Beka snapped. He let out another chuckle, louder this time.

"Not important," he said, letting out a sigh. "Do you need something?" He glanced over his shoulder at her. He looked tired. A faint wave of worry washed over Beka. She hadn't seen him this tired since…since she had come back from Port Caynn years ago. She had seen Rosto worn and tired from trying to keep the false silver from causing more riots and setting his court off. He had succeeded, too. It surprised Beka in some ways, but Rosto was truly charismatic, and he had the gift of knowing what to say to people, despite being a foreigner in their land.

She shook her head as she moved closer. She sat down at the bar on the stool next to him. There was a tankard of ale in easy reach of his hand, and a number of papers scattered in front of him, full of his smooth script. She could not read most of it – the lettering was probably Scanran, judging from that.

"No, not really. I was wondering why there was still light down here. You're usually upstairs by now," she pointed out. Rosto shrugged, letting out a sigh that only told her more of how fatigued he was.

"I've been up there. Not tired," he said, reaching for the jack of ale. Beka reached out and put her hand on his, stopping it as he lifted the drink. He looked at her, frowning faintly.

"How much of that have you had?" she asked. He shrugged again, reaching out with his other hand and peeling her fingers off of his hand.

"Some," he replied tersely. Obviously, he did not like her asking questions.

"Do I need to go get Aniki and have her make you stop since you won't listen to me?" Beka asked softly. Rosto scowled at her. Having his closest friend getting dragged out of bed (undoubtedly cranky) was not something he wanted to deal with in the least.

"No, you do not. I am perfectly sober, thank you," he snapped. "I'm just tired, Beka." She sighed, looking at the countertop for a moment.

"What would you say if I called you a liar?" she asked softly. Rosto snorted. He ignored her, scribbling something in Scanran as she watched. "Rosto?"

"I'm sorry, Beka. Things are difficult right now, that's all," he told her, using a similarly soft tone as he spoke.

"Will you tell me what is wrong?" she prompted. He shook his head. His dark eyes scanned the paper on the countertop. He was ignoring her again, and she did not like it. "Rosto, please?" He sighed and nodded.

"My sister is dead," he told her. "And there are several rival factions in the Rogue who are supporting various rushers to bring me down. They want me gone, mainly because they do not want a Scanran on the throne."

"I'm sorry about your sister," Beka said. She did not know what else to say to him. Rosto was distant these days – he had been for years. They had never truly been close, she realized. He had always kept people at an arm's length. That way, they could not be used against him.

But they were still friends. They were friends, even if they were not close. That had always been enough for her, despite the attraction between the two of them.

"It'll do you no good to let yourself drown in this," she pointed out. Rosto raised a skeptical eyebrow, his deep brown gaze hitting hers with a penetrating stare.

"It's not the drowning that I'm afraid of, Beka. It's the breathing that's taking all of the work," he replied. "You should not be here," he added. "You're a Dog, and this is the Rogue's inn."

"I'm also your friend," she told him stubbornly. "And you're the one who keeps telling me that the wall between Dogs and Rats ain't as large as folk say," she continued. In the instant she spoke, she understood what he had long since stopped saying. The line really was thin between the two factions. Phelan had stepped over it, and so had several other Dogs and Rats.

All she had ever done was tell herself that Rosto was no good for her, that she wanted love, but not with him. She was wrong. It was a quiet realization, rather than the explosive one that she would have thought it would have been. Just as Rosto turned, rising and gathering his notes, she got to her feet. He did not speak. Rather, he seemed to be moving as if in a trance – he was not paying attention to anything other than his papers. Beka stepped in front of him, causing a frown to crease his handsome face.

"You were right," she said softly. His frown deepened until she leaned up and kissed him. Rosto was so surprised that he dropped the papers he had been holding. They fluttered to the ground, but neither of the two bothered to pick them up.

The barkeep just chuckled. It had taken them long enough, in his estimation. And he did believe that he had just won two gold nobles off of Aniki…


End file.
